


What we lost

by longdeadredemption



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Alpha Arthur Morgan, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Intersex, M/M, Miscommunication, Omega John Marston
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:20:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23692261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longdeadredemption/pseuds/longdeadredemption
Summary: John Marston was a coward. A traitor, a sad excuse of a man that had no sense of loyalty to the gang that took him in and gave him his life; that's what Arthur thought for the better part of a year, before riding into camp and seeing those god damned eyes one more time.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 19
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write about John leaving the gang for a year but in a different situation. Not everything may be accurate because it is an au. John left the gang for a reason and it will come up and be shown in the next chapter. comments make me so happy <3

The morning that John came back, it felt like any other day, just like the last from the past year. The days went by slow, the sun falling away to chilly nights that eventually warmed, but brought no comfort for the outlaw. For a long time, Arthur had been cold. Cruel, almost, having grown up no better than a stray mutt, not far from feral when Dutch took him in.

  
It took years for him to feel as close to an honest man as he could be. A lovely Beta woman named Mary came into his life as a young man, a charming, though reckless Alpha. If her father hadn't been the man he had, perhaps he could've married her. Mary had her own flaws and Arthur knew, no matter how hard he tried, he would never deserve her. He couldn't drag anyone down with him in this life.

John had been with them for nearly ten years. He remembered the day he had rode into camp on a freshly broken horse, having just brought Mary back to her home and narrowly avoiding being shot by her Pa, and saw a scrawny, dirty kid being led around by Hosea.

  
Dutch had brought him in, said the boy needed a home. Arthur had laughed it off, thought it was funny, until the kid punched him square in the jaw. The little shit, too young to even develop his own scent, had decided that if this was to be his new home, to hell with anyone laughin' at him about it.

  
A pain in the ass, but an almost welcome one.

* * *

What mattered only was that John left them. Arthur never spoke of it, didn't need to, and no one brought up his name. He was a ghost to them, and for good reason. No one ever wanted to bring up just how John had broken his heart.

After years of believing he could never be an honest man, he stopped chasing after anyone that might have made him happy.

One night, after a good drink around the fire to celebrate a successful robbery, a few of the alphas suggested heading into the nearest town to find some company. Arthur declined, like he always had, and this time, someone asked why.

  
With the flames winding down, the gang had gone back to their tents for a good nights rest, only John left to watch as Arthur poured the rest of his drink to fuel the flames.

  
"Why you never been with anyone for so long, Arthur?" Not since Mary, but that was left unsaid. Blue eyes flickered from the flames to meet oddly sober brown, coat slipping off broad shoulders as he shrugged.

  
"Ain't never wanted to bring an honest one down with me." He sighed, words only met with the crackling of the fire that sizzled under his feet. The soft sound of boots hitting the ground went unnoticed, until a heavy weight came and sprawled across his lap, dirty black hair framing the face that was only an inch away from his.

  
"Then have me."

* * *

  
It started out as something irregular. The two would fall into bed together anytime it pleased them, and it wasn't an unusual thing around their camp. Someone often found someone to spend time with, and he knew well men and women had gone back to their tent's after a night with Dutch. That was all it was, just those nights for them, until it wasn't.

Arthur liked to stay until the sun rose some mornings. Liked to brush the hair from John's eyes and kiss at his neck until he squirmed awake, liked to bring him breakfast and take him out to hunt when he was fully awake. No one ever talked about the nights they spent with another, once the night passed, it was gone.

  
There was just something keeping them together.

* * *

"Don't fucking scare me like that again, Arthur Morgan. I ain't gonna be the one to bury you." The words were sharp, rough hands wrapped around his torso to tighten bandages around his wound. A robbery gone wrong ended with Arthur taking a bullet through the gut, clean through, he liked to keep reminding him, even if he damn near bled out before they got back to camp and got him stitched up.

  
"I know, Johnny. Don't gotta yell at me anymore, makin' me wish I was dead." He groaned, the taste of blood mixing with the whiskey that burned his lips, but helped to numb the pain the bullet had caused.

  
John hadn't left his side for a moment, even when he became so enraged and distraught that he had to shout, startling a few of the women in the tents nearby. Arthur only realized he hadn't been helping when he noticed the low rumble of purring, although not happy. He was trying to comfort himself.

  
"C'mere." The blond grunted, taking the hat off his head and dropping it to the ground as the younger approached, careful not to press against his wound as he laid up against his side, hearing the outlaw let out a grunt of an exhale.

  
"I'd take the bullet for you again."

  
The grip on his arm tightened, feeling the bite of nails against his numbed skin.

  
"Fuck you, Arthur Morgan." His growl was low, but his head stayed tucked close to his chest, only missing the brief moment he tensed when an arm wrapped around his back.

  
"I think I love you, John Marston."

The next day, John was gone.

* * *

It rained the day John came back to camp. The ground was wet under the horses hooves, mud squelching as Arthur kept his leather hat in place on his head to keep the rain from getting in his eyes. The rain had washed away the usually scent of the camp, the soft, fruity smell most of the girls wore, the fresh laundry hung out to cry, or the smell of oak and alcohol that most of the alphas wore as a show of pride.

  
He saw John before anything else. Long, black hair pulled back by his hat, still dressed in the same type of clothes he used to wear- pants a little too big for him held up by suspenders, and a button up covered by a tattered jacket, most likely stolen.

  
He didn't say anything, he couldn't. Had no words left as he left the horse without hitching her, knowing that someone would be angry at him for that, but couldn't bring himself to care much. 

  
Dutch and Hosea had seen him coming, the leader of their pack approaching and pushing back against him as a growl unknowingly left his lips. John's gaze went from Abigail to Morgan, eyes flashing with something he couldn't quiet detect as he was driven back.

  
"Easy now, son. Easy." Dutch spoke firmly, although comforting, his voice spoke with the authority of the pack Alpha, not seeming too happy about him so angrily approaching. "I know you must be upset right now. We were just talkin'. Just let us talk for a while and you can have some alone time with him."

No, he didn't want that. Didn't want to talk to him. He wanted him out, the alpha inside of him hurt and betrayed by what he once thought as his mate. No matter how much his body protested, he didn't want to be there. Didn't want to see those god damned eyes looking at him like that anymore, not after all this time.

  
A huff left his lips, shoulders rolling as he pulled away from the pack leader, eyes never leaving Dutch as he turned to walk away.

A few members of the gang had been brought out of their tents by the commotion, Tilly shyly asking Arthur if he was alright, Javier offered a gentle pat on the back that was shaken off, and Micah...

  
God damn _Micah._

  
"Aw, what's wrong, Morgan? Did the little whore not want to jump on you one last time?" He crooned, but was soon met with a fist to the mouth, back colliding with a tree before sliding down into the dirt.

  
As Arthur took his horse and rode away, no one said a word.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you everyone so much for commenting! it means so much to me, so i ended up writing this sooner than planned. It was definitely a lot longer than i meant, but i didn't want to split this into two parts. I wrote it all in one go, so forgive any mistakes.

Even when John came back to the gang, he wasn't always there. "'Is heart doesn't belong with the gang anymore." Sean had mused the morning that John rode off after a successful robbery, with nothing much to say other than a goodbye to Abigail and a promise to return soon.

  
He always wandered. Even when he was just a kid he always got himself lost and into trouble, but had stayed put and loyal to the gang in his later years. Now, it felt like he never had returned.

  
Charles was the first to ask him about it.

  
A lit cigarette dangled between dry lips as they rode down a worn dirt path, tasked with bringing back game while the girls were out working in the nearest town, no doubt stuffing their pockets with whatever valuables from some poor fool they found.

  
"Ain't gonna find a deer if you keep those eyes on me." Arthur huffed, a billow of smoke leaving his mouth as he released a heavy sigh, snuffing the flame in his cigarette against the worn out leather satchel on his side.

  
Charles, one of the betas in camp, was always the peacemaker. He had no problem standing up to alphas or omegas, it being him anytime there was trouble to stop it.

  
The tension in camp when John was around wasn't helping anyone.

  
Mary Beth was one of their few omegas in camp, and she wasn't afraid to comment about how badly Arthur stank anytime John left. The smell of cigarette smoke and whiskey almost blanketed over his natural scent completely, one that had dulled from rage to hurt, charred bark and dead grass, like a forest had burned down.

  
He brushed her off, scuffing about how his business wasn't none of her concern, and she responded by knocking him upside the head. Fierce, nothing like any of the sweet, shy omegas he had met in the cities, the ones who wanted to impress anyone looking and grab at a proper alpha.

  
"Your head hasn't been in it lately." Charles commented from beside Arthur, patting at the flank of his horse to get her moving, urging Arthur to go forward instead of reach for another smoke.

  
"Hell you mean? I've always been in it. Ain't like some of the others 'round here." He scoffed, and that seemed to be the answer that Charles expected. The beta tugged at the reins of his mare, bringing her to stand in front of Arthur's to keep her from moving too far ahead, and the brindle thoroughbred nickered in complaint.

  
"That attitude won't get you anywhere, Arthur. You need to let go of the past." His face read as well as his words, calm, but persistent. It seemed the past relationship he had with John had just started to get to everyone at camp.

  
They stared in silence for a moment, before Charles eyes caught some game, and he instead chose to grab at his bow and nudge his mare to ride off towards what would be their dinner.

  
"The hell I will." Arthur growled, stashing away his cigarettes before he spurred on his horse.

* * *

  
Arthur wasn't happy to learn he had been paired with John one summer morning, and of all the things, it would be to go fishing.

  
John hadn't complained, even if he wanted to. Dutch had forgiven him for leaving, but there were still things left unsaid, how he owed then, and the scrawny bastard made no complaint about anything he was made to do.

  
"Don't look so sour, Arthur. I figured a little fishing might be better than making you two go out robbin' people. I can't trust either of you two together with guns." Dutch laughs, clapping them both on the back as if their hate towards each other was amusing. Arthur didn't remind him how he could easily toss Marston into the lake and never see him again.

  
When Dutch tapped at John's hat and gently pat his back, his eyes lingered on his body. He looked almost the same as he did a year ago, if not for how his hair had grown longer and he looked just a bit more mature, jaw more defined and perhaps a little skinnier than he had been before, if the way his clothes hung off his body was any tell. He wondered how John had been eating wherever he was, knowing that he could very well fall over from a harsh breeze, but said nothing as they saddled up.

* * *

  
"I ain't never been good at this." John confessed, watching the lure of the fishing pole bob helplessly in the water of the river, where he supposedly couldn't drown if fallen in. Arthur has to wonder if Dutch really did expect him to toss John overboard if they were given a boat, and a huff of laughter leaves his lips that surprises his partner.

  
"You ain't never been good at nothin', Marston." The jab feels playful, and the air around them is calm, as if their past never happened and this was what was truly normal for them. He feels a slight weight pressed against his side and notices that it's John leaning on him, so he stands and collects the fish they caught before he can feel the ache in his heart and the fire in his gut.

  
"Get back to Dutch. I got more work to do." 

  
John doesn't seem upset as he climbs onto his horse, taking the basket of fish before Arthur makes a clicking sound and his horse is trotting off.

  
"I'll be seein' you, Arthur."

* * *

  
By the time Arthur comes back a few days later, he has plenty of cash and contributions to the camp in jewels, having had a fine few days stealing from people that tried to rob him, and a fine new horse that may not have been so legal. He feels a bit better, like a weight was lifted off of him, and by the time he dumps the valuables in the camps little box, he spots John one more time.

  
He looks tired, more than he always used to, and waits at a distance for Arthur to leave before he puts some fancy looking jewels in the box. He remembers John used to collect things like that. Hated to admit it, but would love to wear a pretty necklace and feel like a nice, fancy city omega that was often spoiled by their mate, would keep a pocketwatch and donate any money he had, being fed and clothed by the gang when he needed it, he ain't found money very useful when he had them.

  
It had become the opposite.

  
The jewels he used to like wearing in secret were being put in the box by the handfuls, a small pouch of valuables at his side that he handed over without the blink of an eye. He had seen him before, taking money off of a passed out drunk or swindling some poor fool out of his wallet in a game of cards.

  
None of that money went to the camp, and blue eyes begin to darken as a tightness forms in his chest. No wonder he came back. He must have needed money.

  
John ain't never seemed the one to want a partner, much less a lifemate, and it would be hard for an omega (disguised as a beta or not) to live on their own and be honest. When John's faint scent trails off towards the horses, he finds Dutch in his tent.

  
"Where's Marston goin' now?" He asks, knowing the last time he left, he hadn't come back in a month. Dutch gives a half shrug, waving Molly over to sit in his lap as he takes a puff of a cigar, seeming content and uncaring. "Don't know. Not gonna be back for a while, though. He told me."

  
The sinking feeling doesn't leave him, not even after he climbs on his own horse and rides down the same trail, following the wind that carried his scent, and hoping that whatever he finds might just make him stop hurting.

* * *

  
The sun had started to fall by the time John finally stops, Arthur riding far enough behind that the wind blowing doesn't carry his scent, and John got used to the sound of hooves when riding on common trails. Arthur tips his hat to anyone that rides by, hoping they don't notice that he's following the man ahead, knowing he has no way to explain it to any law. He wonders a lot on the ride, what John would need all that money for, and what he might just be doing to get it.

  
He thinks of how John might be betraying them, handing over whatever information he can to the law in exchange for living his own honest life. Perhaps he showed them his pretty brown eyes and pleaded.

  
The thought makes his gut twist in anger, a growl rumbling deep in his throat that he barely manages to hold back, but he stops when John reaches a small cabin and climbs off his horse. He watches dark hair under the sunset as Marston removes his hat and ties the horses reins to a post, barely making it up a step before a woman walks out to greet him.

  
She's dressed quite nice, and she seems to be an alpha, from the way she's dressed and holds herself. Her fine golden hair is braided and tossed over her shoulder, a broad smile on her lips as she approaches John, and wraps her arms around him to embrace him.

  
He misses whatever exchange of words they have, and he can't decide what he wants her to be. She could've been the law, or maybe just his partner. Someone better that he had been left for. Arthur leaves his horse a good ways away before he starts to approach, and the woman had already mounted her spotted horse and starts to ride off, not having noticed him, or just didn't seem to care he was there.

  
Arthur left his weapons on the horse, and wonders if that might have been a mistake, maybe he may need a gun if John plans to put a bullet in him before he can say something to the gang.

  
"Mighty fine home you got here."

  
He notices the way John flinches at the sound of his voice, shoulders tense before he turns to look at him, and the look on his face is far from the one he had been seeing of him. The bastard looks angry, almost as if he feels threatened, and that might've hurt if he hadn't already been numbed to the pain.

  
Boots crunch under freshly fallen leaves and twigs, kicking away a pebble, eyes wandering down to the dirt to keep from staring into big, brown eyes.

  
"I ain't here to hurt you, Marston. Should know better." 

  
Even if John does, he doesn't seem to relax. He stays standing on the step to the cabin, watching closely as Arthur approaches, but doesn't try to get in his face.

  
"That your woman?" His head tips in the direction that the woman rode off in, and John only huffs in response.

  
"What's it to you?"

  
Whatever sympathy, pity, whatever it had been that he felt for Arthur, that was gone. John appeared angry, and even if his scent didn't scream it, his body did.

  
 _Leave_.

  
"Why the hell did you come back?"

  
That leaves a tense silence between them. The only sound that rustles in the trees is the wind blowing against the leaves, and it feels painful just to wait so long for an answer, fingers combing through dirty blond hair as he sighs.

  
"You got a nice place here. Got a woman, so why did you come back? Needed money that bad?" The alpha asks, licking his lips in an attempt to soothe how dry his mouth feels in that moment.

  
Sharp brown eyes seem to go soft, and he looks almost wounded, like John didn't expect to be accused of that.

  
"It ain't like that."

  
Arthur snorts, rolling his eyes as the heel of his boot digs into the ground, instinctively reaching for a cigarette in the satchel that wasn't there, and he sighs out a curse at himself.

  
"It's always like somethin'. You workin' with the law?"

  
John lets out a rather loud, forced laugh, brows furrowed as he stares at Arthur.

  
"No way in hell."

  
"Then why?"

  
The omega seems to have to debate that, arms crossed as he lightly tugs at his suspenders, something his former partner learned long ago was a nervous habit.

  
"Don't gotta say."

  
It's Arthur's turn to laugh. His laugh is rather loud, rumbling deep in his chest as he approaches the stairs, and doesn't seem to notice the growl that meets him as John pulls back his lips to show sharp teeth.

  
"You serious, Marston? All the shit you put me through, you ain't gonna tell me? Just gon' let me find out when I get thrown in jail?" He accuses, and even with how deep and rough his voice is, he sounds like he's holding back. Like he's not truly angry, only hurt.

  
The snarl that meets his ears is obvious now, and it's something he wouldn't see in any fine city omega. A challenge, as if John was testing him to come any closer, and he meets his growl with one of his own.

  
The sound that vibrates through the air is deep, _loud_ snarls, as if feral animals were to fight, but neither of them pounce, even if John shifts like he's ready to.

  
"I don't have anything to say to you." John growls out, teeth likely sharper than his own, and he wonders in a fight what it would come down to, an alpha's jaw strength, or an omega's determination.

  
"You sure as shit owe me _something_ , John!"

  
" _I told you to_ -"

  
He doesn't realize just how loud they were being until silence falls over them for a moment. John's breathing had stopped, showing just how heavily he was breathing himself, body shaking as he hears the sharp wail from inside the cabin. John takes him by surprise by shoving at his chest, making him fall backwards into the dirt before he turns to race inside, leaving the door open, and the cries are no longer so muffled.

  
Arthur doesn't feel it when he's knocked down. He doesn't seem to realize he's moving before he's at the door to the cabin, blue eyes shifting to the corner where a small crib is placed, watching a bundle all wrapped up in blankets squirm until they're picked up, wrapped in caring arms as the omega lets out a soft purr to settle them.

  
He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't feel anything. Arthur can't bring himself to ask a question, and words only leave his mouth when the babe stops fussing.

  
"I'll go."

He says quickly, and hears no response before he's out the door and mounting his horse, too much on his mind as his horse races to somewhere he doesn't know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feelings?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i did not plan to update so soon after writing something else, but here I am. everyone's comments made me so excited to write more that I had to.
> 
> this chapter is focused more on arthur and his feelings and finally getting a tiny bit of answers! but not really. anything else important left in the end notes.
> 
> chapter warnings include unwanted flirting (nothing sexual) that drifts towards harassment, but is quickly stopped. also, drinking.

Just like Dutch said, John hadn't come back to the camp. When Arthur returned a day later than expected, with no loot or game to show with his absence, no one said a word. The scent that coated the alpha was suffocating for some of them, not taking notice how Mary-Beth covered her nose when he passed by.

  
The men at camp learned long ago not to ask about John anymore, and no one spoke a word of concern as Arthur headed to the campfire for supper, and took a beer along with him.

* * *

  
Arthur lost track of the days, not sure when it had been since he had seen John last, and sometimes he can still smell his weak scent of pine and gunpowder from the clothes he left behind at camp.

  
If he were anywhere near in his right mind, he wouldn't have agreed to go out to town with Bill, Javier, Sean and Lenny.

  
Everyone of those bastards could drink like the sun wouldn't rise in the morning, and he only trusted Javier to be responsible if any one of them got in some kind of trouble.

  
"Why don't ya come join us, Arthur? A night in town with a lovely lady might do ya some good." Sean proposed, taking the burning cigar from his hand and taking a puff before the poor bastard started to cough, dropping it into the dirt and snuffing it with the heel of his boot. 

  
Damn crazy Irish men and their drinking, but perhaps he was right. A night out would do him some good, and he was sure the women would be glad that he wasn't sulking around the camp so much.

  
"Alright. Just know I ain't gonna be the sorry bastard to get you out of trouble when you hit on the wrong gal." He swore, shaking his head when he heard the whoops and hollers of Sean and Lenny as he moved to mount his horse.

  
"We got him, boys! Tonight's going to be a great night."

* * *

  
It seemed, no matter how much he tried not to, Arthur was always the one to step in and save someone from trouble.

  
It wasn't trouble he had expected when taking a few betas like Sean and Lenny out, Bill being the other half of alpha power and Javier, one of the camps other omegas, being trusted to keep most of them from drinking themselves to death, because the stupid bastards would only see an alpha telling them to stop as a challenge.

  
Omega's had a certain charm about them, and when learned, seemed to have a way with words that calmed most unlike any others. Arthur doesn't remember much about his ma comforting him when he was small, but does remember his voice. Quite a way with words, they had.

  
The night had gone on fine, Lenny being a bit responsible as the irishman and the other alpha drank like their lives depended on it, their own kind of contest for their honor.

  
Arthur did get a few drinks in, but the air in the bar wasn't something he was familiar or comfortable with- he waved the barkeep away before he could have too much, saying something about losing all his money if he got too carried away, and the man behind the counter simply shrugged.

  
Being in a gang with these folks left him almost immune to their scents, the smell of whiskey covering any kind of smell he might have been familiar with. He knows folk that talked about losing the nose to be attracted to anyone's scent once you find your true mate, and he downs the last of his drink with that thought in mind.

  
The people there are a little too loud, or maybe it's the ringing in his ears that makes the scraping of the chairs on floor and chatter so infuriating. Arthur does raise his hand to call for another drink as Javier moves to sit beside him, watching Lenny and Bill compete to see who can drink the fastest, and Sean trips over his own feet while trying to woo a woman in a fancy dress.

  
"How you feelin', Arthur?"

  
Arthur swirls the whiskey in his glass, cloudy blue eyes watching as it moves around in his hand, but doesn't take a drink until he needs it. His eyes shift over to the tables behind them; watches the men that turn sour after losing a game of poker and a pretty girl hiding along the wall that's all too embarrassed to go say hello to a gal she fancies.

  
He distantly hears the call from Sean as he's taken by a woman- a different woman than before- up the stairs and towards the room, an Alpha woman, by the way she holds herself and the redness to Sean's cheeks.

  
"See ya on the other side, boys!" He shouts over the railing before he's pulled into the room, and Arthur feels like he pulled something from laughing so hard.

  
"I'm doin' just fine, brother."

  
 _Thank you_ is left unsaid between the two, but Javier offers a gentle pat on the back to Arthur and he matches it with a raise of his glass, a silent show of appreciation. There weren't many in their little gang that could understand what he was going through, but Javier had a good heart.

  
Maybe that was why he reacted the way he did.

  
He faintly hears the sound of a stool being pulled beside them, but only looks when he sees Javier tense from the corner of his eye, and notices an alpha had made himself a little too comfortable beside his friend.

  
"You looking for some company, darling?" He asks sweetly, and Arthur has to wrinkle his nose at the smell that comes from his mouth even from two seats over.

  
"Smells like cheap beer and horse shit." Arthur mutters through a sip of his whiskey, and he knows Javier heard with how his mouth slightly twitches and he begins to relax, before ignoring the stranger completely.

  
The man doesn't seem too pleased with the response, hands that are all too clean and soft come up to lay on Javier's arm- a rich boy, likely. Someone who grew up never being told no in his life, saw someone pretty having a drink and decided to dive right in.

  
"I asked you a question." The croon that comes from his lips is an attempt to seduce, although poorly, and he misses the way the omega wrinkles his nose in disgust and his skin prickles with discomfort.

  
"Hey." Arthur speaks up, tapping his glass rather loudly before dropping it onto the counter, and lifts his hat in greeting when the man gives him a sharp stare, followed by a " _What_?"

  
"Can't you see we're talkin' here? You mind gettin' lost?" Even through his rude comment, he still manages to sound polite, that too bright smile for someone so outside the law shining as he witnesses him look so taken aback by his bluntness.

  
"He yours?" The stranger asks, voice falling quieter as he guesses he found himself between two mates, and an Alpha who is nearly a head taller than him and a good few drinks in sees him as a threat.

  
Arthur can't help rolling his eyes, letting out a sigh as he rolls his shoulders and stands from his stool, hearing Javier mumble something along the lines of ' _not worth it_ ' before he goes back to his drink, earning himself a pat on the head as Arthur approaches the boy.

  
"Jesus, no he ain't. He's his own person. So unless he wants you to stay here-" Arthur tips his head towards Javier, who sits at the bar calmly with a drink in hand, but tugs at his weapon belt to flash his pistol to the man in clear warning. "Get lost."

  
"Look," The man stumbles to get up, and Arthur almost feels bad seeing him now, with how short and scrawny he is compared to him, but is now all too sheepish when he's finally been caught. "I just wanted to spend the night with 'im. Ain't nothin' special about him, just thought that one go-"

  
Arthur realizes about half way through he was finished hearing him talk, grabs him by the collar of his shirt, and throws him through the front glass window.

* * *

  
" _Holy shit, the brave bastard_!" He remembers hearing Sean shout as he was hauled away by the sheriff once someone from the saloon had run off to get help, and he waves his hat in a farewell as he watches a deputy offer the weasel he threw out the window a handkerchief for his bleeding lip and nose.

  
He's sure he'll need to be bailed out as he's dragged to a cell for the night, but after seeing Javier's gun and the sharp gaze from Bill and Lenny, the coward confesses it was his doing for the situation, and that he won't press charges.

  
"Stupid kid." The sheriff sighs as soon as they're at his office, Arthur not making a sound as he's pushed into a cell, all too happy to throw his legs over the bunk he's given and fall back on it, groaning over the creaking sound that meets him when he lays.

  
"You got lucky this time. Not sayin' he didn't _deserve_ it.." The sheriff speaks with a small shrug, the surprisingly calm beta moving to his desk to read through his letters, catching a glimpse at the prisoner as he shifts his hat to lay over his face.

  
"Sleep it off and you'll be free come morning."

  
He receives a snore in response.

* * *

  
Come morning, the pain of drinking and the ache of just being over 30 hits him hard, groaning as his eyes meet the sun that's burning too bright and notices too late that his hat slipped off in the night.

  
"You're free to go, mister. Don't go causin' anymore trouble." The sheriff gives him a fair warning before the heavy cell door swings open, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts and a bit of decency.

  
He sits up in the bunk, trying to recall where he last left his horse; he would have to walk back to the saloon to get the mare, if she hadn't been stolen or made her way back to camp with the rest of the men anyway.

  
His jumbled thoughts are interrupted when he hears the door to the office swing open, and wonders if Dutch had come to bail his sorry ass out with a sob story for the sheriff about how _his idiot son hadn't been the same since his ma died_ , but the scent he catches isn't one he recognizes.

  
Once the smell of sweat and drink leaves his nose, he can finally catch a hint of something he remembers, but he doesn't know where.

  
He smells something like wilderness- the scent of a river running through a forest, of dense trees and moss, but there's something sharp to it that sends a warning signal shooting up his spine- like a deer being hunted.

  
He shakes the feeling off and stands, eyeing the sheriff as he searches for wherever his gun belt was taken to, and only then does Arthur catch a glimpse of this Alpha.

  
Her hair shines in the light and it's twisted and woven, worn nicely over her shoulder, with a hat and a coat that looks a little too heavy on before she shrugs it off her shoulders and he sees how she is, tall and strong, and carries herself proudly, like she's earned it.

  
"Your belt is over there." The sheriff tells him, and only then does the woman look at him with charming brown eyes that remind him of someone he doesn't want to think of, bending to grab his belt before the sheriff hands this woman a paper, noticing her grin when she takes it.

  
"I ever met you before?" The woman asks as she folds the paper and puts it in her pocket, hand on her hip as Arthur rubs at his sore head and struggles to properly put on the belt.

  
He knows her: he's seen her once before, the woman that John was with. The outlaw doesn't rightly know why he feels so tense when he looks at her, but offers a soft grunt in response.

  
"Just passin' through, new to town. Probably seen me out huntin'" He offers, but the woman doesn't look too convinced, although she still smiles and laughs when he stumbles over his own feet in an attempt to put his boots back on.

  
"You got thrown in for causin' too much trouble, huh?" Whether she can tell from experience or she had already heard, he isn't too sure. Arthur gives a small chuckle as he slips on his coat and tries not to face her.

  
"What're you doin' around these parts then, little lady? Here to mock the common men?" 

  
She must not take it too personally, because she laughs heartily and offers him a clap on the shoulder.

  
"You're a funny man. I think I might like you. What's your name, criminal?" She asks, offering out her hand to shake, and surprisingly, he takes it.

  
"Arthur Morgan."

  
She nods as she shakes his hand, her grip firm and her gaze soft, but shows that she has a fire that shows no mercy.

"Nice to meet you, Arthur. Sadie Adler." Sadie is her name. He wonders if knowing that will make him feel better or worse, not that he sees her as her own person, not just someone associated with him. He's glad she releases his grip as she fishes in her pocket for the piece of paper, before holding it out for him to look, and is met with an all too familiar word that reads **WANTED**.

  
"I'm a bounty hunter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wanted to explore a little more on arthur clearly saying omega rights.
> 
> finally an answer for who the lady is! and smut will be added to the story later on and to note:
> 
> what sean says about seeing them on the other side is a joke, due to alphas in this story being written with penises and omegas having vaginas, he went with an alpha, and most certainly got railed.
> 
> for anyone curious, since it mentioned arthur being over 30, he's written here as 33 and John is 23. Their relationship started about 2 years prior.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, was not expecting to update so soon, but here we are! enjoy. maybe some answers come.

Arthur remembered that John had never liked summer too much.

  
He was always dressed in an extra layer of clothing to hide his scrawny limbs, after Micah made a comment about how a pretty omega needed a little meat on their bones, and was only swung at in response.

  
John was one of the first ones to overheat under the summer sun, most omegas body temperatures rising hotter than betas and alphas, and it didn't help the fact that he never cut that damned hair of his.

  
John couldn't swim to cool off during the late August months either, and Arthur often found him resting under the shade of a tall oak tree, polishing his guns.

  
It had been a nice day - the heat of the sun beating down on grassy plains, the rushing sound of a river flowing into a comfortable enough lake.

  
The ladies had drifted off towards the water as the hours passed, and Karen moaned about the heat before stripping herself of her nice dress and jumping right in.

  
"I'll make sure no one does nothin' stupid." John had offered as Tilly and Mary-Beth dashed off to the shore with a shriek, Abigail trailing not far behind, having to shout at them to _keep it down, don't ask like children!_

  
John kept watch as promised, only letting the few omegas and beta women of the camp past to bathe at that time, and anyone who tried to sneak in during then would get a bullet in between the eyes.

  
Arthur was barely an exception, letting out a small whistle to announce himself when he noticed the dark haired male start to raise his newly polished pistol, and only let out a scoff to let him off easy.

  
Worn boots dug into the ground and a grunt left the older as he fell back underneath the tree, stretching his arms out above his head and winking towards the ones that were out swimming.

  
"Lookin' good, ladies!" His gruff voice carried across the lake, and an echoing shriek was given in response before he faintly heard Mary Beth holler in agreement, tossing her small clothes to the water without a care in the world.

  
"You're no good, Arthur Morgan." John said the same thing to him, but always seemed so fond when he said it.

  
"I know." Arthur agreed, his hand coming up to gently pet at John's face, brushing across the stubble he neglected to shave off, no matter how bad the heat got. The fool would look no better than a garbage rat if he hadn't been forced by near everyone in camp to look at least slightly presentable.

  
"But at least I got you."

* * *

  
The warm wind that rustled through his clothes reminded Arthur of happier times. He didn't like the summer days much anymore, not this year.

  
He didn't know what came over him - maybe he really was a fool, but the day he met that woman, he felt almost as if he had to forgive her. She was sweet, wore a smile on her face when she saw children running in the street, but a fire in her eyes when she pulled a gun to a pickpocket.

  
Sadie had been around town for a few days, and even when he tried not to see her, she was always there. At the butcher, purchasing meat after Arthur had sold a deer, or hanging around the gun shop looking for a fancy new rifle. It seemed like she planned to stay for a while, wandering about and asking questions about someone she was looking to hunt, and it seemed he couldn't escape her.

  
"You findin' more reasons to see me, Mister Morgan?" She suggested with a gentle nudge of her elbow towards Arthur's ribs, a soft grunt of a laugh meeting her ears. She seemed the confident and funny type, not afraid of what others might think of her for teasing another Alpha about his intentions. Perhaps if anyone noticed, they said nothing, too afraid of what she might do if she got her hands on them.

  
"I'm sure that's what you're wishin', Miss Adler." 

  
The elbow nudging into his side only became sharper, managing to get a pained noise from him before the woman threw her head back in a laugh.

  
"You're too much, Mister Morgan. And that would be Missus Adler to you." The hand that never dared to touch her gun was raised - not scarred, soft and clean, like she did well to take care of it - to show off a gold band that sparkled on her finger.

  
"My husband ain't like no one you've ever seen." The fondness in her eyes was something so familiar, and it made his stomach turn in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. The only thing shaking him from his mind was the grip on his shoulder, the insistence as she tugged on his sleeve and deep brown eyes that looked like they saw right through him.

  
"I didn't come here just to have some fun. I need your help."

* * *

  
Sadie was a strong woman, but it seemed like she wasn't stupid enough to head into a gang without some help. Arthur felt so odd, being the one partially on the side of the law when they went through a camp, shooting at anyone that tried to put their hands on a weapon.

  
"I need your help."

  
Arthur was never one to help people. It was something he hated doing, not after those folks would smile at him and call him a good man, no, that wasn't what he was.

  
"I need to get this man." Sadie offered him the wanted poster she had gotten from the sheriff, and for perhaps once in his life, Arthur didn't first check the number for the reward.

  
The face was unfamiliar to him, and he felt relief - he wasn't sure what he could say if he had seen Dutch on one of those papers - before handing it back to the woman, like he had actually studied the man shown.

  
"He's got some men, and I heard he's been hidin' around here. I need to bring him back to the sheriff, but I need help. You look like the kind of man I could use." He swore that any other time her plea would fall on deaf ears, but something inside of him wouldn't stop to fight the pull that he felt to obey.

* * *

  
Sadie was rightfully cheerful as the sun began to set by the time she had collected the reward money from the sheriff and thrown the scrappy bastard into his cell.

  
A drink in hand and cash in her satchel, she had a smile on her face as she moved to mount her horse, one that was nearly twice as big as his own, and he felt he somehow lost a pissing contest to this other Alpha without even trying.

  
"I owe you, Arthur. I truly do." She sounded glad as she grabbed onto the reins of her horse, and Arthur wasn't sure what stopped him from grabbing onto her hand when she reached for the money in her satchel.

  
"Nah, keep it. Sure you need it more than I do. 'sides, I'll need a favor from you soon."

  
He didn't miss how surprised she looked, wide brown eyes blinking before she smacked at the rim of his hat and smiled, bright laughter bubbling up from her chest.

  
"You're a good man, Arthur. Anything you need-" She paused to grab at her pocket, unfolding an old map that had seen better days, and showing him exactly where she would be - that little cabin in the middle of nowhere when he followed John.

  
"Come see me anytime." A tip of her hat and she turned to be off, and Arthur took a deep breath before mounting his own stead, and gathered the courage to finally speak.

  
"How 'bout tomorrow?"

* * *

  
He had the ride there to come up with a reason why he was seeing her so soon. Sadie might have indeed thought he fancied her if he didn't give her a reason soon, and he could already see her laughing in his head.

  
"Nice to see you again, Arthur." Sadie was the one - the only person to greet him at that cabin that morning. She looked to be still tired, stretching out her arms and grunting when something in her back made a pop, before she waved him in, and the steps he took to walk inside felt like they took years.

  
"You come for company, or money? I can offer you somethin' to drink, unless you want some old bread." The cabin was - comfortable, almost. Small, but nice enough for anyone to live there without complaint. The first room had a stove that looked like it hadn't been touched in a while, cabinets that moved when the wind picked up through the windows, and a small table and chairs in the corner. There was that corner - the one with a nice looking crib, and a little wrapped up bundle that slept soundly.

  
The room across seemed to be the bedroom, and Arthur didn't want to know what he might find in there.

  
"Just thought you'd like to go huntin' with me."

  
Sadie crooned at the offer, waving Arthur off when he rolled his eyes and scuffed, but only wandered far enough that she was near the crib, never leaving the room so her eyes were off the pup.

  
"Would love to, but someone has to keep an eye on him."

  
_It was a boy._

  
Arthur didn't try to step closer, or even move at all, unsure if the smiles he had seen from Sadie might turn into teeth at his neck if she felt any threat.

  
"Little darlin'. Do you have kids, Morgan?" She asked as she moved to lean over the crib, brushing away the fine blond hair from the babies face, petting lightly at a chubby cheek with her finger, but letting him be when he started to squirm.

  
He remembered a time ago, when he had been asked a similar question.

_He had been out riding with John, a freshly broken horse lead on the rope behind him, one that John somehow didn't get killed by. "Easy, honest way to make money while we lay low," he had offered, and nearly got himself a hoof to the head._

  
_Arthur watched the children run past them when they went through town to get to the stables, long brown hair on a girl still in her sunday best waving in the wind as she chased after her brother, but not without giving him a wave._

  
_"Nah. Ain't somethin' that'll ever happen for me."_

  
Sadie hummed her acknowledgement as she watched the small boy, and the gaze she held looked so familiar. Fond, looking as if she would do anything in the world to protect him, something he too had felt once. Arthur didn't realize where his feet were carrying him until he stood right beside her, looking down at the babe as if he were the finest thing in the world.

  
"What's his name?" He asks, and questions what exactly possessed him to be so bold, but Sadie doesn't seem to mind as the baby begins to squirm and fuss, before her arms wrap around him and bring him to her chest, with gentle croons of ' _it's alright, you miss your mama, don't you_?' before the pup began to settle in her hold.

  
"Isaac. His name is Isaac."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments keep me going <3 also, if you don't get it, im so sorry

**Author's Note:**

> dont have an update schedule or editing due to work.


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